


intimacy

by Lu_aftg



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andreil, Andrew Minyard Loves Neil Josten, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, I LITERALLY CAN'T, Intimacy, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Neil Josten is a Mess, Neil Josten loves Andrew Minyard, Nothing serious, POV Neil Josten, Post canon, Sexual Content, Sexual Intimacy, Smut, Soft Andrew Minyard, Soft Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Summer Vacation, i don't write smut, kind of, lowkey smut tho, neil and andrew alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lu_aftg/pseuds/Lu_aftg
Summary: intimacy over the years between andrew and Neil. starts the summer after neil's freshman year. all could be individual works (so far)
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 14
Kudos: 207





	1. Chapter 1

They’re back from playing the Ravens. Neil’s first year at Palmetto has come to an end, the dorms are being emptied. Neil realises: he’ll be allowed to miss them. For the first time he’ll be leaving, but he’ll be coming back. It won’t ever keep moving forward, don’t look back. It'll be, I’ll see you soon, I’ll miss you. it won't be like Christmas when he was with the ravens. He'll be with Andrew, in Columbia. 

In the Maserati, just Andrew and himself, he allows himself to look back at the dorms as they pull away until it’s no longer in sight.

He’s still staring out the window at the road behind them for an undeterminable time later, only to be pulled from his thoughts by an emotionless, “junkie,” from the other side of the car.

“We’re coming back,” is all he says, and from Andrew’s nod, he knows he understands. never in his life, up until Christmas, did he leave a place only to go back. 

They don’t talk for the rest of the way to Columbia, both content in the silence. It doesn’t truly hit Neil that they’ll be completely alone for the next three weeks before they head to the cabin Allison insisted they all go to. Not until they’re pulling up to the house. Neil’s taken over by a hesitancy of some sort, he doesn’t know what to expect from this. He doesn't know what Andrew expects, Andrew probably doesn’t expect anything. So neither does Neil. 

Neil wipes his brain of any expectation as the Maserati grinds to a halt and they start pulling bags from the trunk.

It’s mid-afternoon by the time that they’re unpacked. Neil’s making coffee, one hand braced on the counter when Andrew’s there, asking, “yes or no?”

Neil can barely finish his “yes” before Andrew’s lips are on his, the air between their lips erased. Neil’s back to the counter and Andrew only a hair away from being pressed against him, he opens to Andrew, relishing in the hot press of his mouth, the teeth on his lower lip, biting down, gently almost. 

Andrew pulls away slightly, and mumbles another, “yes or no?” He’s still so close, Neil can feel the sensation of Andrew’s lips on his as he speaks, a soft brush of contact, then gone again. There’s a hand at the hem of his shirt pulling slightly, the other at his neck, fingers weaving through the hair at his nape.

“Yes,” Neil breathes out and Andrew’s lips are back on his, seconds becoming hours, days, years, and time-stopping as a hand crawls up underneath his shirt. Unlike the fevered kisses, rough and almost uncontrolled, the hand is not. It smooths against his scarred skin, heavy but light, unhesitating but testing.

Neil brings a hand slowly to his hair but stops a breath away before Andrew mumbles a “yes” before crushing their lips together again. His hand weaves through soft hair as Andrew’s hand focusses on tracing the lines of cross-hatched scars on his lower abdomen.

He trails a line of open-mouthed kisses along Andrew’s neck, trying, and failing, to keep a smirk away at Andrew’s shiver at the first points of contact. Andrew’s hand makes a fist in his hair, not pulling or pushing, resting.

Andrew’s hand trails lower and stops. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil mumbles into the crook of Andrew’s neck, before working his mouth back up to Andrew’s jaw.

Their mouths connect again as Andrew’s hand makes quick work of his jeans, sneaking his hand down. Neil makes a sharp gasp at the contact, before kissing back, matching Andrew’s fevered pace.

Andrew’s hand starts hot and fast before slowing and pulling a light groan from Neil, who tries to bury it against his neck.

Neil kisses down Andrew’s neck, Andrew’s shiver wrecking him almost as much as his hand before he gasps into the base of his neck, release coursing through him.

Andrew kisses him through it, his mouth heavy and biting and his hands fist back into his shirt. Neil keeps his hands in his hair, panting and eyes closed, as Andrews's mouth moves to his neck, biting down. After a “yes” answered to a “yes or no”, Andrew works a mark onto his neck, licking over it occasionally, open-mouthed kisses, before taking skin between teeth.

Neil doesn’t realise until Andrew’s breath becomes slightly laboured and heavy Andrew’s hand working himself. Neil’s hands in Andrew’s hair don’t falter, but Neil lets out a heavy breath, from thinking back to after Baltimore in the shower, from the sensation at his neck and from Andrew being so close so—

His thoughts cut off as Andrew stills momentarily with a hot breath before working up his neck and kissing him again. He doesn’t expect Andrew to stay, but Andrew’s clean hand stays at his neck and he continues working his tongue into Neil’s mouth. He ignores the slight tremor in Andrew’s hand before Andrew clenches it in his hair and pulls Neil closer.

Andrew pulls away, his face betraying nothing, and says, “go clean up.”

It’s only then when Neil realises the ruined state of his shirt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> summer in Columbia and then a bit of the foxes vay-cay

They passed the days and weeks in Columbia slowly, quietly. Neil going on runs, Andrew cursing him each morning for waking him up at ' _god-knows-when-o’clock when they were on vacation. vacation Josten, do you know that word?'_ Andrew sleeping in until well past noon, as payback, reluctant to move unless there was a promise of waffles, cigarettes, coffee and sugar, within a half-hour of him peeling his eyes open. Neil would be worried for next year's season if such behaviour continued.

With Nicky in Germany, Aaron with the cheerleader and her family, and Kevin trying to grow a spine at his father’s, Andrew finally had quiet. Their version of ‘normal days’ passed, lounging about the house, doing nothing, going on drives at night when the temperatures finally relented trying to fry everyone alive. Normally the days are so hot it’s almost unbearable and by noon there’s no hope of going outside, but nevertheless, Josten only gets up earlier for his stupid, _stupid_ runs.

One day Andrew went outside, not even for that long, and returned with a pink nose and Neil couldn’t even suppress a laugh. He wouldn’t be doing that again.

Their version of ‘normal days’ are trips to the grocery store, only when it’s an absolute essential, days spent lounging and watching gameshow repeats. Some nights spent just curled up separately, but close, blinking sleepily at each other until one of them falls asleep, Andrew always waiting for Neil to fall asleep first, out of habit, he tells himself, not because he likes to watch the way his faces becomes slack and somewhat peaceful. Some nights it’s Neil pressed into the mattress, hands in Andrews’s hair, Andrew’s mouth on his, fingers exploring. Some nights they’re side by side, an easy give and take, a pendulum of intimacy, it’s slow but just as hot, and Neil looks just as ruined afterwards. Some nights he’s waking up from a nightmare, sometimes it’s Neil, who gets up halfway through the night and goes for a run, before coming home again, or sometimes Neil stays, and lets Andrew’s fingers brush through his hair until he’s calm again.

Andrew isn’t naive enough to think that this can last forever. This peace, even in the nightmares.

All possibility of tranquillity comes to a screeching halt with The Vacation because of Allison. Yes, the cabins, the damn mountains, and the fucking Foxes that he didn’t care about. He’s only there because Neil is, because Aaron is, the ungrateful arse, and so is Nicky. Kevin graces them with his presence. Andrew is merely there to observe and monitor. To prevent Neil from doing something dumb. Or that’s what he tells himself.

Andrew refuses to speak to any of them at all until he got there, luckily it was only Neil and himself in the car (and Neil spent the majority of the journey sleeping), and unpacked. Dinner was a chaotic affair: he sat on the fringes, surprisingly, with Aaron who, despite rooming with Boyd for however long, didn’t feel like socialising after being _heart-breakingly wrenched_ from the cheerleader’s arms.

Over the course of the two-week vacation in the mountains, Andrew took indulgence in alcohol, cigarettes, and Neil. Not necessarily in that order.

He would admit that it was different to see Neil laugh, relax and just be with the other Foxes, finally free from the monsters chasing him his whole life. He would admit that he was almost, almost, sure that this was a good idea for Neil. to experience something like a ‘normal person’ would, someone without all the nightmares and the scars and the memories.

He wouldn’t admit, however, that it was inconvenient with the others around. He wouldn’t admit that he maybe, just maybe, missed having Neil all to himself. He wouldn’t admit that for once, just for once, he wanted to be greedy and have him. He wouldn’t admit that after being greedy for the past few weeks, having Neil all to himself, he no longer wanted to share.

He wouldn’t do anything with the Foxes around, but it was easier in their bedroom to strip Neil of his shirt, pin him to the bed, and ravage him. Maybe blow him. It was easier to sleep an inch closer than it would have been months ago. That inch came in use when he woke to the sounds of strangled breathing from beside him, hands twisted in sheets, tears streaming across scars.

“Neil.” No response.

“Neil, wake up,” He said, louder.

He gasped awake, already moving up, flinching in response– before Andrews’s hand came down on his chest, lightly.

“Stay. Breathe.”

Neil falls back to the bed, hands fisting in his hair as if to make himself feel the scars pull over his knuckles, eyes firmly shut. Andrew removes Neil’s hands, one by one from the painful grip.

His breathing begins to regulate, “I’m fi—”

“Shut up,” Andrew says. “I don’t want to hear your lies.”

Neil turns his head to look at Andrew, eyes and cheeks wet.

He doesn’t mean it brutally, well he does. But he means it as _you can trust me with the truth_. Or maybe along the way it became more of a _don’t force yourself to be okay_. Or, _don’t pretend with me, you don't have to hide this part of yourself._

It’s all three, and Neil knows, and that’s _enough_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know any things that you want to see between Neil and Andrew as this series continues! 
> 
> let me know if you liked it, constructive criticism is welcomed!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nighttime discussions // the boys need to talk about... stuff. where this is headed, but just not in those kinds of words, haha 
> 
> they talk. they smoke. neil thinks about how much he loves exy.

The summer trip to the mountains was everything that Neil hoped it would be. The Foxes, a reprieve from uni and the thought of having to deal with new recruits when they get back to Palmetto. Neil bristles at the thought of having to learn to trust new people with each game, he bristles at the thought of new people encroaching on their lives, on him and Andrew and their “nothing.”

The trip is a perfect distraction, almost.   
There are still nights where he dreams of it all happening again because someone can’t be trusted, but each night he wakes to Andrew: a stabilising force. 

One night, he wakes as he hears the door to their room click shut, and he waits. After ten minutes of darkness and silence, he follows. The rest of the house is silent, he doesn’t know if it’s closer to midnight or dawn. 

Neil eventually finds Andrew on the second storey balcony, just like the roof at the dorms. He’s smoking, legs hanging off the edge, one arm supporting his upper body. Andrew passes him his half-smoked cigarette, probably his second, and lights himself a new one. Neil takes that as an invitation to stay.

Relaxing onto the cold wood and allowing himself one inhale of the cigarette, Neil has to stop himself from leaning against Andrew and rests against the rails instead, body somewhat turned to Andrew. Andrew blinks ahead; his profile only slightly detectable in the darkness. 

He loses count of how long they sat there, long enough for his legs to go numb. It’s when he’s tucking his legs into his chest that Andrew finally speaks. 

“Sex,” is all he says. 

Neil turns to him, perplexed, “what about it?” 

“Do you want to, idiot.” 

Neil doesn’t know-- he’s okay with everything as long as Andrew is. He doesn’t care if they never have sex, it’s not something that he thinks about doing, or that he craves. He doesn’t mind if they have sex tomorrow, next year, in ten years. Andrew is enough. Like this. Nothing more. But, if Andrew wants to, he would. He’s not put-off by the idea of it, but what they have now, even if Andrew calls it “nothing” is enough for Neil and it always will be.   
“It’s enough, for me, like this. But if you want to, we can. Whenever. Do you?” 

Neil thinks that when it comes to discussions like this, it needs to be all set out on the table. He doesn’t want to guess, to doubt Andrew, or this. He trusts Andrew. And Andrew trusts him -- if Andrew said ‘no,’ that would be the end of it.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Alright,” Neil responds, finally, grounding the cigarette into nothing. 

“Not right now, moron,” Andrew finally looks at him, steadily smoking another cigarette. 

“I know. You should quit, by the way.” Neil continues to look out to the now pale night sky, on the brightest of stars remaining, and the crescent moon crawling its way towards the horizon, unexpectant of a reply. 

“What would you give me in return?” 

“Apart from your lungs being able to breathe, and perhaps a better career,” Neil makes direct contact with Andrew blows a puff of smoke in his face, “anything.”

“Junkie.” 

Neil shrugs. He supposes he is-- for a sport which he nearly died to play, for the team that surrounds him, for the life he wishes to have, he’s a junkie for _all of it_. He’s a junkie for afternoons on the roof, nights spent driving, team dinners where it’s so chaotic you can’t recognise one person’s voice from everyone else’s. He’s a junkie for the thrill of each game, the feeling of the ball falling into his racquet, the thrum of the crowd distorted by the plexiglass, all of it. 

“Yeah,” he says. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there will be a part two (or more added chapters!!) just letting you know that I'm never gonna leave you on any cliff-hangers!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> andrew POV. some exploration of the famous "i don't swing" statement. a lovely commenter gave me the prompt of seeing one of them being jealous, which I started to write, but it turned into this instead. 
> 
> not just sexual intimacy ppl ://///
> 
> NONE OF THIS IS BETA-ED. all mistakes are miiine. 
> 
> leave a comment xo

Andrew wouldn’t say he was almost glad to say goodbye to those mountains. The cold. The company of the other foxes. Adios. But he was, as much as Andrew could be. He wanted the house in Columbia, a few final weeks, or days, of peace before he had to endure all the exy addicts at once again. Of course, they wouldn’t be totally alone.  _ But _ his room had a lock. 

Nicky would be there, as would Kevin. And Aaron. He hoped that getting them drunk at Eden’s would provide adequate distraction and give Andrew a break. They’d just left Erik at the airport and Nicky was looking too pathetic already. He’d probably beg to go to Eden’s within a day. Or less. 

  
  


Neil was the only one being blissfully silent in the car. Kevin was raging about exy practice. Aaron was silent, but his mood spoke volumes, too bad no one cared. And Nicky was snuffling and failing to keep it down. 

Kevin was midway through a second peak in his rant about Exy when Andrew finally thought enough was enough. “Kevin. Shut up about exy. I will break all your precious racquets.” 

Neil gave him a look for that. junkie. 

Arriving in Columbia and meeting the swamp-like heat made the others groan as they peeled themselves from the seats. Nicky was already raving about _ thank, God I have a summer bod  _ this and  _ I’m gonna be suuuuper tanned, tan with me Aaron, _ that. 

Andrew simply got his bags and went to the door that Neil had already unlocked.

By the time evening came around, Andrew had Neil pushed into the sheets -- door  _ locked _ \-- and was extremely busy exploring his mouth.

He pulled away, “ask me.” 

“Yes or no?” Neil didn’t even know what he was asking. Andrew wanted to test. To try and trust Neil’s trust. Neil always said that it was ‘always’ yes. 

“Yes,” he mumbled, his body still positioned above Neils, not touching. He dragged one of Neil’s hands to his side. “Over the shirt. Here, and my back.”

The eye contact was too much -- _too._ _Much --_ so he kissed Neil again, making his way down the junkie’s neck as Neil’s hand traced its way from his side to his upper back, just resting. It was more than he’d ever let someone have of him. Even before, when they’d first arrived in Columbia, he’d let himself _finish_ in front of Neil. But Neil hadn’t looked. Neil hadn’t _taken_ that from him _._ Hadn’t even touched him at the time. 

When he felt a hand hover over his hair he crushed another “yes,” against Neil’s mouth. A second hand joined as Andrew moved down, to kiss his way across the bare chest, briefly looking up at Neil before he made contact with a scar, “yes?”

Neil’s voice was already ruined when he let out a, “yes,” that was too breathy and  _ too much _ . 

He kissed one, and another, something he’d imagined when he was first shown them. He wanted to test the boundary: see how far the ‘yes’ would go. He didn’t. He navigated his way through the scars, kissing and biting the unmarred flesh, his hands stroking down Neil’s sides, coming to a rest at his jean button. 

“Yes or no, junkie?”

“Yes, Andrew,” his hands briefly flexing in the blond hair, before going lax and simply resting. 

\----

Nicky, predictable as ever, raised the topic of going to Edens the following morning. With the back up of a petulant Aaron and moody Kevin. Andrew agreed, it kept them quiet. He wouldn’t hear the end of it if the refused. 

That night, Neil in skinny jeans and the top he’d first bought him, Andrew decided he didn’t mind so much. 

Entering Eden’s was no problem. The bouncers letting them in, no queue. Nicky immediately grasped Neil’s hand and danced his way towards the bar in search of Roland, or another familiar bartender, while Andrew took it upon himself to secure a table. 

Through the obscuring crowd, Andrew watched the exchange at the bar, disinterested by the music, and the people desperately fighting for attention. At first, Nicky leaning against the bar to flirt with Roland while he poured the drinks, Neil simply standing like the idiot he was and saying nothing. People filtered around them, until someone perched on the bar next to Neil, trying to get his attention. Neil only turned to look at them before turning back to Roland and Nicky, the stranger dismissed. Andrew scoffed, especially when he saw the look of rejection on that girl’s face. 

‘I don’t swing,’ echoed in Andrew’s head, floating above the noise around him. Never - even just then - had Neil looked at someone with interest. Well, apart from Andrew. He cocked his head to the side, watching Neil make his way through with the drinks. 

Kevin and Aaron promptly entered a race to get wasted first, Nicky spun off into the crowd, dancing. 

“You don’t swing,” he took another shot. 

“No, I don’t.” 

Andrew continued to watch Neil as his gaze moved across the crowd, never stopping on anyone, like his own, sometimes, did. Andrew nodded in contemplation. 

“You had no problem last night.”

Neil’s glare turned on him. “There’s only you. I only ‘swing’ for you. We understand each other best. I don’t want anyone else” 

Andrew leaned an elbow on the table, body leant towards Neil, “yes or no?”

Neil looked around, at all the people surrounding them, but none of them really looking, “ye—” 

Andrew kissed him, briefly, before taking another shot. 

  
Okay.  _ okay _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for anyone confused, i started to think about Andrew being jealous, but I don't think he'd care???? i think he'd be interested, but he wouldn't go crazy at whoever it was trying to flirt with Neil. I thought, as time goes on Andrew starts to understand that Neil doesn't swing for anyone else, despite the implications of it (that it's NOT a "nothing").
> 
> This is me trying to show Andrew's way of piecing the puzzle together. i feel like this would be important for andrew to understand before any other "stuff" can happen. really.
> 
> leave a comment about what you think xo

**Author's Note:**

> oops. this turned... i put mature but its only a handjob don't get too excited. 
> 
> orginally posted on my Tumblr (@minniminyard) and slightly edited just now. i wrote this ages ago, don't be too harsh. 
> 
> this is my second work on here so don't hate me in the comments xo 
> 
> give me prompts in the comments, that would be nice. please and thank you.


End file.
